


Anchor In The Storm

by kristen999



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Pre-Slash, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 07:01:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21231713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristen999/pseuds/kristen999
Summary: Danny had noticed Steve had been withdrawn; he got moody on this date every year. But that wasn’t the reason why Steve was acting strange, far from it. And now Danny was Steve's only life-line.





	Anchor In The Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissSlothy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSlothy/gifts).

> A/N: Thank you to Gaelicspirit for the swift beta and all of her suggestions. :)
> 
> Warning: This story has some emotionally intense scenes. Feel free to DM with any specific questions.

* * *

All the bones in Danny’s body ached, his limbs heavy with fatigue. Not from exertion, or a foot chase, no.This was simply because he drank too much red wine. Stupid. 

Leaning back in his chair, he plopped two _Alka Seltzer_ and watched them fizz. With a sigh, he downedthe water while watching a constant stream of boxes get delivered to Steve’s office. 

Then, one-by-one, some of the team followed inside like mice.

Curiosity piqued, Danny dragged his feet into the hallway where Junior enthusiastically walked out, clutching a shirt.

Danny nodded. “Why do you look like a kid at Christmas?”

“Because this is like the ultimate sports-performing shirt. It’s supposed to help regulate your body temperature when you sweat.”

“It’s a t-shirt.”

Snorting, Junior walked off, shaking his head. 

Danny didn’t get the eagerness. He spotted Tani’s excited trot when she caught his eye. “And did you get a sweaty t-shirt, too?”

“Um, no.But look at this.”

She handed him a small bottle. Danny glanced at the label. “Dry shampoo?”

“Isn’t it cool?”

“It removes the sweat and oil out of your hair,” Danny read out loud. 

“Without taking a shower.”

“That’s kind of gross.”

“Dude, gross is being up for over 36 hours on a case during a hot day. Your hair is nasty, and you’d like to feel a little human without searching for hot water.”

Suddenly dry shampoo sounded awesome.

Not wanting to be left out, Danny walked into Steve’s office and glanced at all the open boxes. “You win a contest?”

Steve chuckled. “No.”

“Then what’s with the stuff?”

“Sometimes I get offers from companies to endorse their products, even though I’ve told most of these places I can’t legally do that as head of Five-O.” Steve drank from a shiny new bottle. “But they still try because of my connection to the Teams.”

“Aw, so not as Five-O, but as a SEAL.”

“Yep.” Walking toward one of the boxes, Steve pulled out a small, but very expensive pair of sports earphones. 

Danny smiled in anticipation. 

But instead of handing them to Danny, Steve gave him a different box. Peering in, Danny resisted throwing it at Steve’s head. “I think I’ll pass on the foam roller.”

Steve smirked. “Why? It’ll help with sore muscles from hang-overs.” 

“Maybe they should have included a book about manners.” Turning on his heel, Danny stalked off in search of coffee and maybe some aspirin.

* * *

Danny’s headache was his own fault, he knew that. But it wasn’t everyday he got to chill with old friends from Jersey. His buddy Ray was vacationing with his wife and the three of them split three bottles of wine reminiscing about old times.

“Earth to Danny.”

“Hmmm?” Danny looked up from where he’d been staring absently at the table. “What?”

Steve scowled at him. “We need to pick a date for the team’s sexual harassment training. I was thinking next Friday?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Steve held monthly meetings with his three most senior members of the team to go over business. Danny appreciated it, liked having input, but at the moment he was a bit distracted by his desire to go to bed.

Lou shook his head staying silent. He glanced over at Steve, but the other man was writing notes on a yellow pad of paper.

When Steve didn’t speak again, Danny cleared his throat. “I said next Friday sounds good.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

Steve sound miffed; Danny rolled his eyes. 

After scheduling all required meetings, they usually went into department budget issues. Danny waited with bated breath because, Lord, that always resulted in intense discussions about supplies and property damage insurance issues.

But Steve seemed to think it would be fun to rearrange his papers and drag the meeting on in some attempt to reprimand Danny for daydreaming. 

Lou’s stomach growled. “Steve, my man. I’m hungry. Can we hurry it along? It’s almost lunch time.”

Steve’s response was to flip through his folder. 

“Steve,” Danny said in irritation. “What are looking for that you haven’t found shuffling around the same pages?”

“My notes on the Hawkins’s case.”

“Why?” Danny asked confused.

“Because we have a deposition tomorrow.”

“Um, you mean the deposition from last week?”

Steve stopped rifling through his papers and glared at Danny. “Yeah, that.”

Danny glared back, because seriously? What was with the attitude? 

Steve’s phone rang before Danny could call him out for being a jerk. 

The conversation was over quick. Steve looked at them both and gathered his things. “We’ve got a case. Come on.”

There went a boring Monday of paperwork to help with Danny’s pounding head.

* * *

Crime scenes were never pretty. Fear and anger often hung in the air, seeping into your skin. Blood smelled like dirty pennies. Danny was glad they hadn’t had time to eat.

Crouching down on his haunches, he stared at the dead body lying in a damp puddle of a laundry room. He didn’t need an ME to know the COD—the hole in the guy’s forehead was hard to ignore. He shivered. Water dripped from a pipe in the ceiling. 

“There goes all our evidence,” Danny muttered. 

Junior canvassed the floor. “I don’t see any shell casings.”

“I doubt they went down the drain.” Danny continued scoping out the room, looking over at Steve. “What do you have?”

“This pipe’s busted.”

“Yeah. Damn thing’s responsible for ruining our scene.”

Steve pulled out a chair to stand on to examine the pipe, water dripping down the side of his shirt in the process. 

Shaking his head, Danny continued to search for evidence of a weapon. After checking every inch of the place, Danny walked toward Junior. 

“I think our suspect took all his brass. I didn’t find any weapons on the body;could mean our killer took it with him.”

Danny walked to the entrance of the laundry room. “This door looked like it’s been forced open. Maybe one of the tenants in the apartment heard something.”

They needed to start talking to the neighbors. Danny wasn’t going to eat anytime soon. With a frustrate growl he looked back into the laundry room and stared at Steve. He was standing over the dead body.

“You spot something?” But Steve continued staring at the DB. Danny walked over. “What is it?”

“What?”

“What’s got you so transfixed?”

Steve looked around the room then back at Danny. “Nothing.” He glanced over at the dripping pipe. 

“Hey,” Junior said from the doorway. “The ME’s arriving. Should we start our interviews?”

“I don’t know.” Danny looked over at Steve. “Are we?”

Steve looked over at them with a furrowed brow. “Yeah. I’ll catch up in a few.”

* * *

After two hours of interviews and a late lunch, Danny returned to HQ and made a beeline toward Steve’s office.

Opening the door without knocking, he spotted his query. “What the hell happened?”

Steve looked up from his laptop in confusion. “What?”

“You abandoned me at the scene. Not only that, but you stole _my car._ I had to ride back with Junior.” Danny waited for Steve to respond, but all he did was look back at his screen. “Steve?”

Typing keys was Danny’s only response. 

Perturbed, Danny walked around Steve desk to yell at him some more when he noticed all the random letters and numbers on the computer screen.

“Are you kidding me with this?” Danny waved a hand at the screen. “Ignore me, tell me to take hike, but don’t fake working.”

“The font is all weird.”

“The font?”

“Doesn’t it look off to you?”

“No, it doesn’t look off to me and who cares? It’s probably a computer update. What’s the matter with you? I’m yelling at you for leaving me to do all the leg work so you can be annoyed by fonts.”

Danny snapped his fingers. “Hello?” Steve was too engrossed by typing. Throwing his hands up, he walked away from the desk. “You know what; I’m going to follow up with Junior about our victim. Maybe you could tear your attention away from your work long enough to help identify him.”

* * *

Danny stood next to Junior as the scrolled through the crime scene photos on the big screen. No one in the apartment complex had seen or heard anything and there were no security cameras.

Yet, their victim was shot without a single strand of evidence because the laundry floor had been wiped clean by all the running water from the pipe.

Danny kept glancing over at Steve’s office, biting his lip. He'd been holed up for the last two hours. 

Junior must have caught him staring. “I heard him on the phone yesterday with his sister. He said something about going to a grave later today?”

_Grave? Oh, shit. _ Danny glanced at his watch calendar. He felt like an asshole. “This was the day his father was murdered.”

Steve being keyed up made sense now. But it sent a pang into his chest. The death of his father had created a seismic shift in Steve’s life, changing it forever. It was the reason why he and Steve had met; the reason why Danny and Steve had this undefined thing forever, never fully acting on it.

After all these years, Steve still locked away his pain. Danny had been there with Steve through life’s worst, he just wished Steve felt comfortable enough to seek him out when he was hurting. 

As soon as Danny started toward Steve’s office, Steve walked out of it and headed toward the coffee maker. Staring at the counter, he skipped the caffeine and refilled his water bottle. 

Danny debated what to say when Steve reversed course, staring at the crime scene photos as he went. Danny turned the screen off, but by the time he turned around, Steve had already returned to his office. 

Tani hurried into the room before Danny could follow, holding up her phone. “I got a call from Duke. They think the identified our victim’s car in the parking lot of the apartment complex.”

* * *

Tani and Junior checked out the car, but Danny had to go to the Governor’s office because Steve wouldn’t pick up his phone.

Danny had to apologize to the governor’s assistant, to the governor, then attend a meeting before returning to HQ a few hours later. _God,_ he was so tired. His bones grounded together when he walked. He was never going to drink wine again.

Part of him was sure Steve had left for the day, so he was surprised to find all the lights out in HQ, but Steve still in his office. 

Knocking on the open door, Danny entered. “Babe, what are you still doing here?”

Steve didn’t look up from his computer.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” 

“Why are you still here?” Worried, Danny leaned on the side of Steve’s desk. “Have you left this office at all today?”

The wrinkles in Steve’s brow doubled in thought. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” That was unacceptable. Jeesh, he knew better than to leave Steve alone on a date like this. Danny clapped his hand together. “All right; this is what we’re going to do. You’ve getting up and we’re going to grab some food. Good food from _Iani’s. _ Fresh soup, a nice big salad, maybe some fish.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten anything all day.”

Danny looked at the computer screen; it was a blank. _Now_ Danny was concerned. 

“Are you feeling all right?” 

He went to touch Steve’s forehead, but Steve batted his hand away.

“Whoa,” Danny said taken aback.

Danny hadn’t felt any signs of a fever, but he was still worried by Steve’s reaction. “Look, I know this is not a good day for you. Come on; let me take you out to eat.”

Steve rubbed at his temple. “I have to prep for the monthly meeting tomorrow.”

“You mean the one we had today?”

Steve looked up at him sharply. “Why are you interrogating me?”

“I’m not interrogating you. I’m asking if you want to eat and God forbid, I was worried you were sick since you’ve been holed up here all freaking day, doing nothing it would appear!”

Steve stared at the screen like he’d just noticed it. 

Danny’s gut was screaming at him. But Steve was annoyed and obviously in a piss-poor mood, which usually meant his defenses were all the way up and would resist any sound logic. Instead of yelling, Danny tried with a soft approach. 

“Look. I don’t think you’re feeling well. And your blood sugar is probably low to boot. We don’t have to go out to eat, we get go to your place and order a pizza.”

The alarm on Steve’s phone went off and he stared at it, tapping at the screen several times, but it kept shrilling. 

Beyond frustrated, Danny grabbed the phone out of Steve’s hand and turned off the app. 

Steve snatched it back. “I’ve got to go.” He stood and started to put on his jacket.

“Go? Where? What about eating?”

“I need to be somewhere.”

Danny moved so he blocked Steve’s path to the door. “Let me give you a ride.”

“To where?”

Danny threw up his hands. “Wherever you’re going.”

Steve stared at Danny and Danny felt more confused as the silence drug on. “Steve. Let me take you where you need to be. We can eat, then chill and—” 

“Why are you so concerned about what I do when I leave?”

“Because I care about you, you jerk.”

Steve flinched, and God, he looked shocked, even bewildered. Danny’s heart crumbled. After almost nine years, how could Steve be so taken aback that Danny cared about him? Loved him. 

It hurt.

“I...I gotta go,” Steve said, moving around him.

Danny didn’t bother arguing. He knew today was important, knew Steve’s grief was so bottled-up that when it came out, the rawness was overwhelming. But how could Steve be this confused over Danny’s worry? How did Steve not get it?

* * *

Danny bought a pizza and took it home, polishing off three slices while he watched Chopped and ignored everything that happened today. He might have looked at the clock a few times, debating if he should call Steve. Yes, Steve blew him off, but Steve was prickly when it came to his father and he had very little skills when it came to dealing with his emotions. 

Danny should call him because he was a good person, and he knew Steve was acting out. Knowing that didn’t ease the twinge in his chest for being such a damn softie.

While he wrestled with his thoughts, the devil beat him to it. Danny answered his cell phone when he saw Steve on the caller ID.

“Hey.”

_“Danny?”_

All the hair along Danny’s arm stood on end at the uncertainly in Steve’s voice. “Yeah. What’s wrong?” 

When all he heard was harsh breathing, Danny put the phone between his shoulder and ear and started searching for his shoes. “Talk to me.”

_“I…I think I’m being followed.”_

“Where are you?” Car keys in hand, Danny went to his gun safe to retrieve his service weapon. “Steve. Where. Are. You?”

_“I…I think they know about Shelburne.”_

Danny’s blood ran cold. “Shelburne?”

When Steve didn’t reply, Danny asked a little louder. “What about Shelburne, Steve?”

Shelburne was Doris’ codename when they had no idea Doris was still alive and Wo Fat was terrorizing them from afar.

“Steve, you better freaking talk to me.”

_“I can’t talk anymore, Danny.”_

_Click._

What the hell?

Hitting speed dial, Danny went outside and toward his car until Junior picked up.

_“Danny?”_

“Where are you?”

_“What?”_

“Are you home?”

_“No, I’m—” _

“Meet me at Steve’s. Right now.”

Danny peeled out of his parkinglot at record speed.

* * *

Danny paced inside Steve’s living room. He’d searched upstairs and downstairs for clues to Steve’s whereabouts, but it didn’t look like he’d been home since this morning.

He pinned Junior with a look the moment he entered the house. “Did you hear from him?”

“Nah, not since this morning. Do you think he’s in trouble?”

When Junior looked at him perplexed, Danny waved his hand. “You didn’t hear him on the phone. He was talking about something from years ago. And today at work, he was being….”

“Squirrely.”

Junior still looked at Danny like he was acting like a paranoid overprotective….

Danny’s phone rang. His pulse raced. It was Tani. He put her on speaker. 

_“Hey, so, I ran a trace on Steve’s cell phone, but it’s turned off. I can’t ping him.”_

Damn it. 

“Okay, let’s be logical here. What do we think we’re dealing with?” Junior looked at Danny. “What do you suspect?”

“I dunno. Steve sounded confused.”

“But this is the anniversary of his father’s murder.”

“Yeah, and I get that. But typically, Steve just goes to the grave or, sometimes he’ll take the day off. But he’s never been…I mean somber, yes. Reflective...but today he seemed more than preoccupied. He seemed out of it.”

_“But not confused enough to turn off his phone,”_ Tani piped up.

“Maybe he just wanted privacy,” Junior said. 

“He spent hours in his office typing random letters on the screen because he thought the fonts were weird.”

Junior stared at him.

“Look, I know Steve, and something’s wrong.”

“Okay then,” Junior said. “We’ll put out an APB. I’ll call Lou; ask him to help coordinate things with HPD.”

_“Maybe we could drive to the cemetery where his dad’s buried?”_ Tani suggested.

Danny patted down his pockets in search of his keys. “Yeah, we could do that.”

“Is there anyone out on bail or released from prison we should be worried about?” Junior asked.

Was there? Damn it, they needed to keep better track on such things. Way too often Steve’s record for pissing people off came back to bite them all in the ass.

* * *

Steve’s truck was at the cemetery, but Steve was nowhere to be seen.

There were no cameras, no witnesses, and no clues.

It had been three hours since Steve’s phone call, six hours since Danny had seen him. Since anyone had.

Eddie had not picked up on a scent.

“Danny,” Lou said in that tight voice. “There’s no signs of foul play.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. You know that.”

The people who tended to go after Steve had endless resources.

Danny’s stomach turned itself inside out. Where did they begin?

“Are any of his Navy buddies in town?” Junior asked.

“Shouldn’t you know?” Danny asked.

“I live with him, but he _talks_ to you.”

Yeah, but Danny had his friends this weekend. Damn it, had he missed something?

“What about his father’s murder? Could it all be connected? The date and all?” Tani asked.

Danny just didn’t know.

* * *

Ten hours. Nothing.

Danny had run himself ragged. Half the HPD was out in search of Steve. But there was nothing to search for. It was like the Earth had swallowed him whole. 

But Steve was a trained Naval Intel officer and a SEAL, if he didn’t want to be found….

Exhausted, Danny had driven home to take a shower,his hangover from earlier long gone.

There was no traffic out this late at night, even in Hawaii. His body was strung-out from too much adrenaline.

He slammed his hand against the steering wheel. Not again. God, why hadn’t see this coming? Why hadn’t Danny put together the fact that the universe liked to fuck with him, screw with Steve, knock them down when things were relatively okay?  
Why did it always take life and death situations for either of them to realize how deeps their feelings ran for each other?

Heart racing, Danny had to ease his foot off the gas as he almost went twice the speed limit.

What now? Where did they search, where did they—

His phone rang.

Still wearing his com, he touched his earpiece in hopes of news. “Yeah”

_“Danny, its Junior!”_

Danny tried focusing on the road and the tense sound of Junior’s voice.

“What is it?”

_“I found Steve. He’s home.”_

“What? Is he okay?”

_“Just get over here.”_

“Junior, what the hell is going on?”

_“I’ve got to—” _

The line went dead.

Tires squealing, Danny did an illegal U-turn, and sped toward Steve’s house.

* * *

Danny parked in Steve’s driveway and did a quick check. The only other vehicle was Junior’s. There was no outside movement or anything he could see from the front window.

Weapon drawn, Danny went toward the door and listened for sound. Nothing. 

He hadn’t called for back-up because he didn’t know what he was walking into. Hostage situation or a drunk, grieving Steve?

Not taking a chance, he checked the door, finding it unlocked and entered. 

He kept his gun pointed at the floor and walked inside. The coffee table was knocked over and the recliner was on its side. Scanning the rest of the living room he spotted Junior in a heap on the floor.

Danny was by his side in three strides. He checked for a pulse, sighing in relief when he felt a strong beat. 

“Drop your weapon and raise your hands!”

Danny stood up and swung his weapon in the direction of the voice, his heart pounding. Steve stood an arm’s length away, his SIG pointed at Danny’s chest. 

“Lower your weapon.” Steve repeated.

Danny’s mind raced a mile a minute. “You know I can’t do that.”

Steve’s arm trembled and his breathing was rapid. “Identify yourself.”

What the hell?

“Steve, you know who I am.” Damn, this was bad, very bad. “I’m Detective Danny Williams.”

Steve’s nostrils flared, his eyes darting toward a spot behind Danny. It was in that second that Danny noticed the clip was missing in Steve’s gun, in fact, he was carrying Junior’s service weapon. Steve preferred the P226 SIG.

Where was Steve’s weapon?

Two things occurred to Danny: Junior removed the clip to his own gun, meaning he was able to shoot Steve, but chose not to. Steve took Junior’s weapon but was too out of it to notice it wasn’t fully assembled. 

The question remained though, was there a bullet left in the chamber?

Steve continued watching Danny, but it was obvious he wasn’t tracking one hundred percent. He kept staring over Danny’s shoulder.

When Danny shifted weight, Steve eyes darted toward him. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“It’s me, Danny. Your partner.”

Steve blinked and chewed his bottom lip.

“Steve….”

“Don’t move!” Steve commanded. 

“Okay, I’m not moving. We’re all good here.”

“Where…. Where are we?”

“We’re on Oahu.”

“Oahu?” Steve shook his head. “No, that doesn’t make sense. Where’s…where’s…." He almost tripped over Junior. 

Caught off guard, Steve swung his weapon back toward Danny, hands shaking even harder.

“Steve,” Danny said calm and clear. “Who are you looking for?”

“Where’s Lieutenant Hart?” Steve took several steps closer, his gait unsteady. “Tell me!”

Was this a flash back? Did Steve think he was back in the SEALs?

Steve’s eyes darted from the door to the living room to Danny. “Where…?” Steve’s eyebrows drew together in a knot of confusion. “Where….?”

“Steve….”Danny licked his lips.

“Get down!” Steve yelled.

Danny ducked out of instinct as a bullet rang out, striking the front door.

Holy shit there _had been_ a round left in the chamber.

Whatever was going on in Steve’s brain, he was sick. And dangerous. To himself, to Danny, to his neighbors. Danny needed to secure him before he hurt himself or others.

Steve aimed his weapon at Danny’s chest. “Where is he?”

Danny released a heavy breath. “Who?”

“Shelburne,” Serve grit out. 

There were only one or two plays Danny could use here. Counting to three in his head, Danny swallowed. “He’s behind you.”

Normally, Steve would have never fallen for that. But this Steve swung his aim toward his office.

Holstering his weapon, Danny lunged at him.

His plan was to grapple Steve from behind, trap his arms, and kick him in the back of the knee to take him to the floor. It almost worked. 

Danny wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, but he did not topple him over.Steve threw himself backward. Danny’s legs and lower back struck a cabinet and Steve elbowed him in the jaw.

With a growl, Steve staggered away, spinning around to face Danny, and squeezed the trigger.

_Click._

Danny’s breath caught in his throat. But he didn’t have time to react. He grabbed a glass bowl from the cabinet and threw it at Steve’s head.

Steve threw his arms up, protecting his face. But it was just a distraction so Danny could grab something else to use as weapon. Because even sick, Steve was still a freaking SEAL, and Danny did not want to go toe-to-toe with him in close quarter fight for long.

He grabbed a heavy lamp. Steve stepped toward him and Danny swung the lamp, striking Steve in the shoulders. Swinging again, the lamp glanced off Steve’s temple, knocking him off his feet.

But Danny got too close and Steve wrapped his legs around Danny’s knees and jerked him down onto the floor. 

Then Steve kicked Danny in the face.

Danny gasped, tasting blood, his ears ringing. 

Steve struggled to his feet and lurched toward the kitchen.

Shit, shit, shit.

Steve kept weapons in things like the breadbox and the freezer.

Scrambling, Danny used the dining room table to stand, and charged after Steve, running through the kitchen door.

Steve made a beeline toward the kitchen island, snagging something and spinning around to face Danny.

Instincts screaming, Danny drew his gun at the same time Steve pointed a knife at him. 

Both panted for breath.

“Put…the knife…down,” Danny ordered.

Steve’s chest heaved and sweat dripped down his face, but he did not back down.

“Please, Steve. Please lower the knife. I’m here to help you.”

His words only irritated Steve further, his breathing increasing; his jaw clenched so tight it protruded from his cheek.

“Babe,” Danny pleaded. “Please, listen to me. You know me. You know I’d never hurt you. Please drop the knife.”

A floorboard creaked in the other room. Steve jerked his head in the direction of the other door, eyeing it like the hounds of hell were beating on the other side.

“Steve….”

Another floorboard creaked….

“Junior, stand down,” Danny yelled in warning.

Steve took a step back, hitting the kitchen island, his eyes darting between Danny and the door. Danny had a gun. The door was an unknown. Danny could see this, and a million other thoughts, run through Steve’s frantic mind. 

_“Please, _Steve….”

“He killed him.”

God, who killed who? What was going through his brain?

“Yes, he did,” Danny said, playing along. “And we’ll bring him to justice.”

A strangled sound escaped Steve’s lips. He shook his head and gripped the butcher knife harder.

Danny knew Steve, recognized the set his shoulders, how he bent at the knees, his muscles coiled – he knew the moment Steve began lunging toward the door, intent to kill whomever was on the other side.

“Steve!”

Danny pulled the trigger.

* * *

Steve dropped like a dead weight. 

Danny searched where the knife fell and kicked it away. He was beside Steve’s side in seconds. 

Junior burst into the room, but Danny didn’t look up at him. “Call a bus and tell them not to turn on their sirens. Tell them their victim is cop and he’s altered.”

“Got it.”

Blood spread from under Steve. Danny turned him over, eyes scanning for the source of the wound. He’d aimed for the leg. 

Steve groaned as Danny’s hands touched and searched. He spotted the growing stain coming from mid-calf.

“It’s okay, Steve, you’re going to be okay.”

Danny’s fingers came away wet and tacky, the entrance wound was in the back of the leg. Damn. There was no exit wound. Blood kept pooling beneath his hands.

Danny removed his belt and wrapped it a few inches above the wound, enough to slow the bleeding, but too tight enough to cause nerve damage.

Steve continued moaning and muttering, distraught. “I need…to…find him….”

Steve was conscious and babbling which meant his airway and breathing were okay. Even though he just tied a tourniquet, Danny searched for the artery that branched off from the thigh and pressed on it. Steve cried out in response.

“I’m so sorry buddy, hang in there. Okay?” Danny soothed.

“Freddie,” Steve groaned. 

Steve’s anguished tone made Danny’s heart split into a million pieces. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” 

“Dad’s dead…. He killed him…he killed him....” Tears streamed down Steve’s face.

Junior returned to the kitchen out of breath. “The bus is on its way.”

“You hear that Steve? A medivac is on its way.” Danny looked up at Junior and gave him a look, hoping he understood.

“We’re evacing to Tripler,” Junior said.

Danny wasn’t even sure if Steve heard.

“Hey, I’ll take over the pressure,” Junior said. “You lift up his legs? And prop them on mine.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Danny let go and Junior knelt. Danny elevated Steve’s legs, resting his feet into Junior’s lap as Junior continued pressing down on the artery.

Steve had quieted down, spiking Danny’s anxiety. Junior shared a look of helplessness with Danny. 

Danny checked Steve’s pulse at his neck frowning at the rapid, faint beat. “Hey, buddy, it’s me. Talk to me.”

But Steve was didn’t open his eyes and Danny wiped the fresh tears away from his face. “Steve, come on, hang on.”

“Freddie….” Steve rasped.

“Yeah, man, it’s me.” Danny ran his fingers through Steve’s hair. “You’re going to be fine.”

Steve moaned before he his head lolled.

“Steve? No, no, come on, babe, don’t do this. Please!”

* * *

Danny didn’t want to talk to anyone. Not his team, not the doctors, not his fellow cops. He might have given the shortest statement in history.

Steve was altered. He had no idea how or why. Steve had a knife and Danny shot him.

He was numb.

“Danny man, I know you don’t want anyone yapping in your ear, but shouldn’t be alone,” Lou said, sitting in the chair beside him.

When had Lou even arrived?

“It’s not your fault.”

Danny looked up at Lou. “Oh? Someone else shot Steve?”

“He’s a trained Navy SEAL who was armed and dangerous.”

“Who was also whacked out of his gourd.”

“Hence the dangerous part,” Lou sighed. “Steve shot his own front door, that bullet landed in the yard across the street. Thankfully no one was hurt.”

Steve could have killed a civilian. It only made Danny feel more guilt-ridden. He should have figured out Steve was sick. He should have asked him more questions, followed him when he left HQ. 

“Maybe I could have subdued him another way,” Danny thought out loud. _Instead of shooting him. _

“Hand to hand combat vs. a guy with a knife?” Lou asked. “A guy who has taken out a professional assassin in his own kitchen?”

“Maybe….”

“He got the drop on me.”

Danny looked over at Junior who looked as dejected as a human could. Tani rested a hand on his shoulder. “I knew something was wrong when I got home. When I realized McGarrett was unwell, I took the clip out of my gun, and I…I tried to secure him.” Junior snorted. “I underestimated him. If I hadn’t….”

“He would have still taken you out. This is Steve Freaking McGarrett. You might be younger and quicker, but he’s more experienced and a hell of a lot crazier,” Lou told Junior. He rested a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Steve had a knife and he was going to attack a member of your team. You made a painful, but correct decision. A decision that any of us would have made under the same circumstances.” Lou squeezed Danny’s arm. “But you saved Junior and you probably saved Steve.”

Junior looked at the ground, guilt oozing off his shoulders. 

“I shot him in the leg,” Danny mumbled. “I thought…you know, wing him. But now he’s been in emergency surgery for three hours.”

There was no such thing as an easy bullet wound. The human body was fragile.

“I think the question we’re all missing is why?” Tani said. “What happened? And who did this?”

It should have been the only question preoccupying Danny’s mind. He was even more pissed at himself. Because Steve didn’t walk out of the office and suddenly have a psychotic break.

Just as the wheels inside Danny’s head began turning, the doctor showed up to discuss Steve’s condition.

* * *

_“The bullet was a through and through.”_

_“There was severe bleeding from a tear in the posterior tibial vein.”_

_“We went in and repaired the damage.”_

It was a cacophony of medical mumbo jumbo. 

“Is he going to be okay?” was all Danny could ask.

The surgeon’s facial twitch. It made Danny nauseous. He looked over at his name tag. Dr. Patel.

“Stopping the bleeding was our number one priority, but the drug intoxication presents its own set of complications,” Patel said.

“Drug intoxication? From what?” Junior asked. 

“We don’t know.”

Lou looked to the ceiling with a roll of his eyes. “What do you mean, you don’t know?” 

Dr. Patel looked at them with sympathy. “It means that I was not privy to the cause of Commander McGarrett’s altered status before surgery, and according to the lab, the tox screen is inclusive.”

Tani crossed her arms. “He was drugged.”

“You mean poisoned,” Junior growled. 

But there was only one thing that mattered to Danny, one single thing now. “What does that mean for Steve?”

“The anesthesiologist had a very difficult time with Commander McGarrett’s vitals during surgery. It was very tricky given we did not know the nature of the drug intoxication.” Patel looked at Danny. “He’s been transferred to the ICU; the staff there should have more answers for you once he’s settled.”

“More answers?” Danny scoffed. “You didn’t answer the question I asked.”

“I’m sorry, Detective, but my job was to repair the bullet damage. Commander McGarrett is under the care of the ICU staff now.”

* * *

They were not allowed to see Steve. 

Danny and Junior were regulated to a private waiting area in the ICU. Even after Danny flashed his badge and said he’d fax the documents proving that he was Steve’s medical proxy. It didn’t matter.

He’d sent Lou back to Steve’s house to get the latest from CSU. Tani was busying searching Steve’s office for any source of the drug. But they didn’t know what they were looking for. 

He felt a tap on his shoulder from Junior and Danny looked up in time to see a member of the ICU staff approach. Danny steeled himself for the news.

* * *

“Delirium?” Danny stared at Linda, the nightshift lead for the ICU. “You mean he has a high fever?”

“No. He’s suffering from the effects of a drug-induced intoxication.”

“What drug?”Junior asked. 

“The lab results were inclusive. All we can tell is that it’s psychoactive in nature.”

“But this intoxication, it’s ending.” Danny pointed down the hall where he wasn’t allowed to go. “Steve’s been here for hours.”

“We do not know what he’s been under the influence of, for how long, or at what dose. The anesthesia and pain medication given to him during surgery has only made Commander McGarrett’s condition more complicated.”

Danny tried piecing together a timeline. “Steve was fine last Friday. He didn’t start acting squirrely until this morning. So, whatever he’s been exposed to, it had to be short-term.”

“And he was fully under the effects tonight,” Junior added. He looked at Linda. “Does that help you at all?”

“Delirium can occur immediately or soon after the substance has been consumed and has taken effect.” She frowned at them. “Even after the drug has worn off, sometimes delirium can continue, and it will usually subside within days after the drug had left the person’s system.”

“And what is delirium again?”

Danny was glad Junior had asked because he was still a little confused. The word was terrifying. 

“Delirium is a serious disturbance in mental abilities that causes confused thinking. To be honest, it usually occurs to patients who have been in the ICU for long period of time or those detoxing from drugs or alcohol.” Linda hugged a clipboard to her chest. “In this case of drug intoxication, the start is usually rapid — within hours or a few days. It can cause memory lapses, agitation, rapid mood changes and sometimes hallucinations.”

“But he’s better.” Danny sounded desperate. “I mean, he’s going to get better?”

“He should. With time.”

“Then I want to see him,” Danny insisted. He looked at the security doors. It wouldn’t take much to break through them. 

“Maybe in a few hours.”

“He’s been poisoned and has been hallucinating about his dead war buddy and murdered father. I will not stand for him to wake up alone.”

“When the delirium has passed, he will more than likely have no recollection of anything that happened. It’s often a blessing.”

Danny stood firm. “Please. Just for a short while.”

* * *

Danny might have made the smallest noise in the back of his throat. He’d seen Steve in the hospital plenty of times, but only in the ICU once. After three bullets ripped him apart and Danny had given him half his liver. But this…?

Steve was barely in view beneath all the wires and tubes and machines. He was naked under the sheet that much Danny could tell, a nasal cannula was there to help him breathe, but what horrified Danny, what had him rooted in place by rage was the fact that Steve’s wrists were restrained.

Linda must have felt the waves of rage he was radiating.

“The restraints are for his protection.”

“Please remove them.”

“I can’t.”

“He’s a cop.”

“Who is confused and hallucinating.”

“He’s a war vet. He will not react well to being restrained.”

“He tried to pull out his breathing tube as soon as he entered recovery.”

Danny walked toward the bed, his heart breaking. Where could he touch? He wanted to take Steve’s hand, but couldn’t even do that. 

Danny found it hard to believe that Steve could lift a finger at this point. But he took the only chair in the room and put it next to the bed. Danny took a seat, watching Steve’s mouth move without words, his eyes moving behind closed lids.

Reaching over, Danny touched Steve’s arm above where one of the IVs were. Steve keened an odd, strangled sound. Danny pulled his hand away as if were on fire.

Steve’s eyes flew open, but he stared at the ceiling, mumbling incoherently. His hands jerked, his trapped wrists further irritating him, his rambling louder, his words slurred nonsense.

“It’s okay, babe. I’m right here.”

But Steve didn’t react to his presence, he just mumbled more, lost in a haze.

Danny wiped away his own tears as he sat there in a vain attempt to comfort him.

* * *

ICU visiting hours lasted only 90 minutes. Danny lasted thirty before he returned to work.

His eyes were red-rimmed and his face pale, but Danny splashed water over his face in the bathroom of HQ.

He walked toward the surface table where the rest of the team stood. “Tell me we have a suspect to bury in the ground.”

Junior met him halfway across the room. “Eric found the source of the drug.”

“What was it?”

“The water bottle from those promotional items.”

“Someone poisoned the water?”

“No,” Tani said. “It was a refillable bottle, but Eric said there was a powder in the filter. Every time Steve refilled it, he got a heavy dose.”

“Want was it?” Danny waited for answers. 

Tani looked down at the floor. “Eric doesn’t know yet. He thinks it’s some designer drug.”

“Designed to do what?”

“We don’t know either,” Junior said. He almost pounded his fist on the table, but Tani stopped him. 

Danny tried very hard to focus. “What about the t-shirt and dry shampoo?”

Tani tried hard but failed to hide her guilt-ridden expression. “We turned it all over to the lab.”

“We’ve run searches on the company that supplied the items, but it’s a front,” Lou spoke up for the first time. “We’re still digging.”

Junior blew out a breath and rubbed his eyes. Calming a little, he glanced over at Danny. “How was Steve?”

Danny didn’t have the heart to tell them the truth.

* * *

“Why does he have on oven mitts?” 

“It’s to keep him from injuring himself,” Linda said while checking one of the monitors. 

“He’s already restrained.”

“Commander McGarrett has fingernails.”

Danny clamped his mouth shut, noticing the red marks and fresh bandages over Steve’s forearms. “Oh, babe.” 

He didn’t know if he’d even last thirty minutes this time.

* * *

“Did I tell you that Grace and Will had a fight the other day? Some big thing about not spending enough time together. Which I’m okay with, studies first. I mean how many high school sweethearts do you know of that went on to marry? Of course, I like Will; we know his family, that’s something right?”

Danny rambled about his latest phone call with his daughter, about the weather, about the fact that his New York Jets still sucked at football. Keep talking, he can hear you, Linda said. 

But Steve didn’t reply or argue with him. His arms twitched and he wrestled with invisible ghosts. 

Sometimes he shouted. Sometimes he sobbed.

Sometimes Steve had whole one-sided arguments that Danny couldn’t understand.

Sometimes Steve looked at Danny when he talked, but no one was home behind those rapid-moving eyes. 

It made Danny want to cry. He did of course, in private, when no one was looking. 

But he’d sit there during the limited visiting hours, talking to Steve, touching Steve’s arm, his face. He was just there. It was all he could do.

* * *

The Team worked around the clock and all roads lead to a single suspect. Danny drove the Camaro down the airstrip, blocking the private plane from takingoff.

With Tani and Junior covering, and Lou standing on Danny’s side, the suspect surrendered without a gun battle. Hands raised, the man knelt on the pavement in his expensive suit.

Danny strode up to his impassive face. “Agent Clayton Firth, you are under arrest for attempted murder and felony assault.”

Firth raised an eyebrow.

“Did you think we lacked the resources to figure out your real name? Or that you work for the CIA?”

“And how is the Commander? Still falling down a rabbit hole?”

Danny slugged Firth in the face. It did little to the rage burning inside.

Firth spat blood on the ground then looked up nonplused. “Are you all here to escort me to a Federal holding facility?”

“Oh, do you mean back to the people who allowed you to run your black ops bio-warfare while looking the other way?” Danny hummed under his breath. “That’d be a no.”

Spinning a finger in the air, Danny pointed to a black SUV driving toward them. “It seems you’ve been picking various targets across the globe that you blame for ruining your covert career. You targeted Steve because of a reprimand he reported during a mission a million years ago. But you also tested your poison on some MI-6 agents and even a few members of the Russian FSB.”

Danny _tsked._ “See, we know an ex-MI6 agent and he was more than happy to contact the Russians and believe me, you won’t like their version of a black ops site.”

Three burly men dressed head to toe in black strode over and grabbed Firth and dragged him kicking and screaming toward the trunk.

Danny didn’t feel a single moment of remorse as he watched the SUV drive away.

* * *

On the fourth night, Danny read to Steve, one of Grace’s favorite stories as a child when she was sick. _The Poky Little Puppy._

Danny read while Steve yelled. Read when Steve cursed at people who were not there.

When he was done for the night, Danny tucked the book under his arm and peered over Steve to say good night.

He jumped when Steve stared back at him.

_“Danny?”_ Steve whispered.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Danny took Steve’s outreached hand, his fingers squeezing through the soft mitt. “Yeah, babe. I’m here.”

* * *

“I want to go home.”

Steve’s voice was rough and weak, but lucid. Finally. 

“I know. But you’re kind of weak as a Care Bear right now and you need to get better.”

“How long have I’ve been here?”

“Six days.” Danny had lost count how many times he’d heard the same questions. But Steve’s recent memory had more holes than Swiss Cheese. 

At least they were out of the ICU. 

“What happened to me?”

“You were drugged.”

“And my leg?”

“You were shot.”

Danny didn’t say he was the one who had pulled the trigger.

* * *

Danny took Steve home—his home.

“I have my own house,” Steve reminded him.

“I know.”

“And a dog.”

“Junior can feed him.”

“Junior can also—” 

“—do a lot of things, but the only person who is going to take care of you is me.”

Steve shutup after that.

* * *

Steve would need crutches for a month and PT twice a week. Danny was prepared to play taxi and provide motivation for home therapy, go on errands. He was more than able and willing. 

What he couldn't handle was a quiet Steve.

“Hey. You’ve barely eaten your soup.”

Steve sat on the sofa, his leg propped up on pillows, his bowl of matzo left untouched on the coffee table. “Hmmm?”

It did things to Danny’s stomach to see Steve with his sleep-mused hair, lounging around in shorts and a faded blue t-shirt. He sat on the tiny bit of cushion left unoccupied. “Soup. Food. You. Eat.”

“Oh.” Steve stared at the bowl like it’d just magically appeared. 

“Still feeling a bit fuzzy?”

“Yeah.” Steve scratched at his chin. “I…it feels like my brain is running through quicksand.”

“The docs said you’ll probably feel off for a while, but you’ll return to your annoying self in a few days.” Danny contemplated helping Steve with the soup then thought better of it. He chewed on his bottom lip as Steve stared off into space. “Steve?”

“I don’t remember any of it.” Steve played with the drawstring of his board shorts. “Nothing.”

“I know it’s disconcerting, but it’s for the best.”

Steve looked up at Danny sharply. “I attacked Junior. I attacked you. I could have killed the both of you.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I tried.”

Danny stared at the swath of bandages around Steve’s leg. “Yeah, and I shot you.”

Steve stared at his hands. “I left you no choice.”

“Hey.” Danny reached over and gently took Steve’s chin and lifted it up until he was looking him in the eyes. “You’d been drugged. You were a victim. We both were.”

Steve was still sullen, and Danny had had enough of not being able to touch or hug him. “Hey. Come here, will ya?”

Quirking an eyebrow, Danny reevaluated his request. “On the other hand, scoot over.”

Steve of course complied, even with a stitched-up leg; he managed to move so he was sitting up in the corner of the sofa, making enough room for Danny. 

Maneuvering until he was lying next to Steve, Danny wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulders, and drew him closer. “Is this comfortable?”

“No.” Steve shifted his weight then rested his head against the soft part of Danny’s shoulder and chest. “Now it is.”

“Steve.”

“You had to do it, Danny. You had to take the shot.”

“Yeah, I know. I guess. But that’s not what I wanted to…,” Danny licked his lips. “I would have hung out with you that day. For the anniversary.”

“I know…I…I was going to ask if you if you wanted to grab a beer after work, but you were hung-over, then well, then the rest of the day is just bits and pieces.”

“But the way you were behaving…I should have….”

Steve took Danny’s hand and squeezed it. “Should’ve, would’ve. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that everyone is okay.”

“I want more than _okay,_ Steve.” 

Danny waited for Steve’s whole body to get tense, instead his whole chest relaxed with a heavy breath. “I think I’d like that.”

“Nine years.” Danny shook his head. “We are slower than one of those giant sea turtles.”

“Those turtles are awesome.” Steve was silent for a moment before he started tracing his fingers down Danny’s arms. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For staying with me in the ICU. One of the staff told me how…,” Steve searched for his words. “How determined you were to be there. To see me through to the end.”

Danny shuddered at the memory of those nights. “Promise me you’ll talk to me about stuff. The things you keep locked away that you don’t want anyone else to see. Because that type of stuff, it festers, babe. It hurts you.”

“I’ll try.”

Nodding, Danny allowed himself to get comfy, to listen to Steve breathe as his body relaxed into sleep. Basking in the warmth of Steve’s body, Danny closed his eyes, drifting along with him.

* * *

Fini-  
Written for Whumptober2019. Prompt: Delirium  
Thank you to MissSlothy for helping me pick a prompt and for being an awesome fandom friend!

Just for clarity because someone asked: Part of this was inspired by something I experienced first hand. I was the loved one's legal medical proxy. After the fourth day they began suffering from delirium in the ICU and they had to be restrained. I wasn't informed ahead of time until I was in the room, but I think it was timing thing when I arrived. Staff were wonderful.

You can find me on tumblr here: https://thekristen999.tumblr.com/


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